


Thought And Memory

by GoofyGoldenGirl



Category: The Wicked + The Divine
Genre: Arguing, Backstory, Character Death, Confrontations, Control Issues, Dark, Disturbing Themes, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Explicit Language, Fandom Allusions & Cliches & References, Flashbacks, Fucked Up, Gen, Memories, POV Second Person, Power Dynamics, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Wakes & Funerals, disturbing backstory, woden is his own warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 01:23:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6495286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoofyGoldenGirl/pseuds/GoofyGoldenGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em><q>We both know exactly what you are; and as long as I know what I know about you, you'll obey </q> </em>: <strong>Ananke Wicdiv 14 </strong></p>
<p>If you while reading, get a sense of déjàvu, that you've seen or read this before, and it's just at the tip of your tongue but you don't know why,they do say WicDiv is a fandom commentary...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thought And Memory

Jane's little brother was found dead.

You were with her in the living room when it happened. The two of you were on the couch; next to each other like always. You were listening to music on your phone; trying to drown out that stupid emo crap coming from Brad's room. Jane had spent the past hour gazing down at the floor. A hand cupped her face as she rested her elbow on her knee. Her plaid skirt bunched up, and the hemline grazed over her creamy white thighs. She was lost in thought; her long eyelashes fluttered and her blue eyes widened as she studied the lines etched into the wooden floor. You looked at her as you listened to your music. You never got tired of looking at Jane, even after all these years. 

It was 5:00, and like always, her mother arrived home from work. And even though you always tuned out the jingle of her keys as she placed them on the table, and the sound of her footsteps coming up the stairs, you took out your headphones and glanced up at her approaching figure. You nudged Jane. She smoothed back her long red hair as she sat up and resumed her stiff pose. This time, she focused on the wall. 

"Hi kids!" She exclaimed in that overly perky voice of hers. 

Jane muttered a hello. You ignored her like you always did and turned back to your phone.

"Brad? I'm home!"

No answer. How unusual. That little brat never missed an opportunity to prove himself as _the_ perfect boy. It was sickening how everyone fawned over him; dimpled cheeks and toothy grin, that pre pubescent squeak of a voice, and a sugary sweetness about him that screamed _poison_ in your mind. Combined with his flattery and ingratiating words, he bewitched all who came across him to adore him.

_Isn't he so sweet? Clever?_

You hated that thirteen year old shitbag with every fiber of your being. He was exactly like that _bitch_ that was his mother.

"Brad?" His mother raised her voice over the sound of that god-awful music. 

His mother set down her purse on the living room table and started down the hall to Brad's room.

"Brad?" You heard her knock on his door. A pause. There was a click as the door opened. And it came. A gut wrenching scream. You jumped up and the two of you rushed down the hall to find that Jane's mother had sunken to her knees, a hand over her mouth, tears cascading down her face as she gazed in horror at the right hand corner where Brad kept the stand for his pet budgie.

A rope was tied at the top of the empty birdcage. It looped down and around the boy's ghostly pale neck. Blood trickled from his mouth and onto the floor next to a sheet of paper with messy handwriting on it. His eyes; the same shade of blue as Jane's, were frozen forever in fear. 

You acted accordingly and put on your best shocked expression. Jane burst into tears.  
**************************************************************************************************  
Bouquets and wreaths of lilies, roses, and orchids covered every inch of the viewing room. The overpowering putrid smell of flowers put out well past their prime made your head spin. The urge to smash the vases and tear the flowers from their stems and crumple them to shreds was strong, but your rational side reminded you that you still were considered to be a human being. You took your place in the front row as the mourners filed in. Your father placed a comforting hand on Jane's mother's shoulder and said something softly to her. The rage bubbled through you again. How dare your father put that woman on a pedestal? She was skilled at letting everyone believe that she was an angel but you knew the truth. You knew it at age six when your father sat you down to give you a _big talk_ about something called a _divorce_ because mummy and daddy didn't love each other anymore; at age seven when he revealed that he was marrying his girlfriend, Fiona; and thirteen when your long suffering mother revealed that your father and that redheaded whore had been fucking during the last two years of their marriage, and yours of happiness. 

_You got what you deserved, you fucking cunt_ You bitterly thought as you watched her wail for the demon spawn that lay rotting in the casket.

Jane silently wept. Blots of mascara clung to her eyelashes and streaked down her cheeks as she stared down at _her_ brother in the casket. She was dressed in black; like the rest of these fools that have gathered in the funeral home. How ironically morbid; the first time you met her when you were both seven, everyone was clad in white.

_You could still see her exactly the way she was that summer's day; how the skirt of her white dress flared out as she walked down the grassy path to the altar: her sun kissed strawberry locks flowing behind her as she balanced the crown of roses on top of her head. The patch of freckles that dotted her cheeks, how her crystal blue eyes shined when the light hit it, and the most enchanting smile you had ever seen in your life._

**She is the sun.** _You thought in awe._

Jane made her way through the crowd and exited the room. You followed her. She knew you were behind her; she always could feel you when you were near. 

"Jane," it was the first time you had spoken to her all day. Your hand reached out to caress her arm, to comfort her.

"Go away Lucas," she slid from your grasp.

"Jane, you're obviously not well," your tone might have been condescending but in your mind it sounded sincere. "You need someone and--"

"Do _not_ fucking pull that shit with me! Not after what you _did!_ "

"Jane if you'd just listen to me---" You started.

"I don't need any fucking explanation!" The fire seeped through her voice. Your heart raced; like it always did when she got angry. Your body tensed up, like it used to when the two of you engaged in fist fights during those first three years of living together. 

_You thought it was acceptable behavior ten years ago at age eight to provoke people. It bought you a sick sense of pleasure to see them suffer like you did at the hands of your evil stepmother, that noisy, uncontrollable demon toddler, and Jane.; high strung, stubborn Jane, who repulsed and fascinated you for reasons you pretended not to understand. That day you riled her up by testing out that nasty, new word that described her mother so well._

_"Your mum's a bitch," you said in a low voice._

_You had chosen wisely. Jane was a sight to see when angered. Her eyes turned a full shade darker as they narrowed. The freckles on her cheeks popped out against the deep crimson flush that lit up her skin. Her lips stretched into a grimace, and as she sucked in air, you could not help but imagine steam coming out of her ears._

_"What did you say?" She growled._

_"Your mum's a **bitch** " Goosebumps prickled on your skin as you emphasized the last word. _

_In a flash she struck. With a shout, your hand shot out to push her back, but her grip was too strong for you. Her right hand formed into a fist and sent a punch straight to the nose. You stumbled back as she descended upon you, bringing down her fist again and again._

_"Don't call my mum **that!** " She screamed between each punch. Your nose gushed blood and it trickled down your face. You manically grinned as you licked your lips and spat the blood back at her, wondering what she would do next to you. In a fluid motion, she bent your arm back and hurled you to the ground. It hurt. You deserved it. Even back then, you knew you were scum._

"I know I fucked up, I've fucked _everything_ up. And I know I've fucked up your life just as much as mine but I _need_ you," your voice wavered. 

You were desperate. That watery feeling at the back of your eyes that you've tried hard to repress was threatening to spill over. Your whole life you've waged a war for control; to present yourself as reasonable and rational: an intellectual who towered above the irrational, emotional masses. Yet you couldn't hide your weakness from Jane. She who had seen you at your best and your worst; who knew you better than anyone. Your shining sun, who twisted that weakness of yours to bend you to her will. 

You were eight years old again. And you were powerless.

_"For god's sake Lucas! Stop crying!" Your father hollered at you as the wild look crossed his eyes. "What are you a baby? A little girl? Use your **words!** " _

_You were backed up against the fridge. Your words bounced about your throat as you hiccuped and shrieked. Everything was blurry as you struggled to see through your tears. You wished your tears could flood the room, through the house, and drown everyone, including you, inside it._

_"Dammit Lucas I don't have all day!" You heard your father bang his fist on the kitchen table. A shattering sound came as something (a better bottle?) fell to the floor. "What the hell is **wrong** with you!" _

_From the corner of your eye you saw her standing by the kitchen entranceway._

_"Lucas?" She said softly._

_You felt her hand slip into yours. Her hand was warm. Yours was cold. You let her lead you out of the room._

_"Lucas? Why are you crying?" She asked._

_"Because I can't," you choked out._

"You are my sun. You brighten up my world and make the storms in my life go away. Just like how I am your moon that lets you surrender to the darkness of the night. I can't imagine life without you, even if you you hate me, and do everything to make my world crash down. Jane…"

You were vulnerable. You should have been ashamed of yourself.

"I love you," you bit your lip. You tasted blood. You bled for her. 

_She peeked out from behind the twinkling red lights, and paced a hand on the branch of the fake tree. She jumped out and brandished her toy sword._

_"Ha! I got you! Now surrender!" She triumphantly exclaimed._

_"Never! As long as I breathe this kingdom will never know peace!" You blocked her blow. You laughed. She laughed, as you chased each other around the living room._

_"I want to play!" Came a nasally, whiny voice._

_He was by the tree, clutching the bird plushie he carried everywhere, still dressed in the penguin pajamas **his** aunt had given him. The same beautiful blue eyes and round cheeks that he shared with **his** sister were twisted into a disgusting expression of begging known as **the puppy look** ,and the mop of hair on the top of his head stuck out just like yours did when you were four. _

_"No Bradley, we're playing a grown up kids' game. Maybe later you can play with us," Jane explained in a gentle tone._

_"But I could be a bird! I could be a magic bird! I could help you fight Lucas!" He insisted._

_"We can team up later," she said with a smile. "But now it's me and Lucas' game ok?"_

_You were more than annoyed. You were **furious** at that rotten little **brat** who felt so **entitled** to everyone's attention. _

_"We don't want to play with you! **Go away!** " You shouted. _

_With a cry, he ran off to complain to **his** mummy. Under the archway with the hanging ball of mistletoe he went and he disappeared down the hall. You started after him and felt Jane take hold of your arm as you reached the hallway. _

_You stopped. The two of you stood there under the mistletoe. Your lips parted as you stared at her: freckled cheeks, shining blue eyes, and the mess of hair that fell in bangs on her forehead. You didn't think. You acted on instinct as you leaned in and for the first time in your life, pressed your lips against another's. And you weren't surprised when you felt her kiss you back._

"An _I love you_ isn't going to bring Brad back to life! You got what you wanted didn't you? Did you really hate him that much to forget that he's your **brother?** " She sobbed.

"He's **not** my brother! He never **was** and never **will** be!" The rage shot through your veins. You clenched your fist as you saw her eyebrows furrow. She sneered. She screamed. Your voices were getting louder and louder but you didn't care that anyone would hear. You battled for control and it was a fight that you were losing. 

_One._

_A groan scratched the sides of your throat as you clamped down on your tongue. The room was dark. You felt Jane, heard her breath, heard the incessant chirping of that **blasted** bird of Brad's two rooms down as your skin turned clammy and cold._

_Two._

_You had relinquished your control. You wanted this domination, yet the adrenaline rushing through your veins screamed at you to fight back. To assert yourself and subdue her to your will. Yet you trembled as she lorded over you and broke you._

_You deserved this._

_**This is how you felt** You thought. _

_You weren't a man. You weren't even a woman. You were only a sack of blood and shit that stained the sheets._

_**Three** _

"Who cares if I **ever** wanted him fucking dead! He's **dead!** It doesn't even fucking **matter** anymore!" Spit flew from your mouth as you felt your cheeks grow hot. "I didn't even think that I could **fucking** do it!"

_You lived for this: the glassy look in her eyes as the sunlight from the window streamed onto her body. Her long red hair sprawled out on the pillow. The way she clung to you as she whispered your name over and over again._

_You were one. Whole. Light and dark joined together creating a power that rivaled the most violent forces of the universe. You needed her. She needed you. You were fucked up and she was too. And only you two could take comfort in each other._

_A piercing caw shattered your bliss. You glanced up to see that goddamned budgie circling above. You stopped and your hand moved to bat it away._

_"Come back here Nana!" The brat's voice echoed from outside._

_The tiny crack in the door you had forgotten to close widened. He stepped into **your** room. Startled, Jane pulled back and covered herself with a blanket. _

_"Brad what are you doing here?" She nervously yelled._

_You were on your feet and charged at him. Jane and her brother both shouted at the same time._

_"Why can't you just fucking knock like a **normal human being**?" You grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him about. His eyes spun and a queasy look washed over him as he struggled to break free. _

_"I didn't know you were here!" He cried. "I--"_

_Your hands snaked around his neck and rattled him about. You heard a crack. Your fingernails dug in as an animalistic rage surged through you._

_**"Lucas let him go!"** _

_The bird shrilly screeched._

_" **Lucas stop!** " _

_The bird flapped its wings over its face as if to shield itself._

_" **LUCAS STOP!** " _

_You snapped back and dropped him to the floor. Bradley's face was a purplish blue. Blood dripped out of his gaping mouth. He didn't move._

_**"BRADLEY!"** Jane howled as she sunk down next to him. Her long hair brushed over his face as her tears diluted the blood on his cheeks._

_**"NO!"** She cradled his head and torso and pulled him in close. She had been reduced to a hysterical sobbing fit as she rocked him back and forth. You were overcome with panic as you glanced over to the body, the blood, and Jane. You needed to do something and fast. _

_Jane got dressed as you dragged the body back to its room. You found a rope and hoisted the body up on the birdcage stand. You ripped out a sheet of paper from one of his notebooks and scrawled some bullshit as you thought back to when he sniveled about the older boys who (rightfully in your mind) bullied him a few weeks ago. After placing the note on the floor, you plugged his iPod into the speakers and blared that emo garbage he always listened to, before closing the door behind you. You cleaned up, got dressed, and went to look for Jane. You joined her on the living room couch and sat in silence. You pulled out your phone and clicked on iTunes to listen to something of better taste._

"He **deserved** it!"

She hit you with all her might. Your eye stung as you felt the beginnings of a black and blue mark form.

" **I HATE YOU!** " Her voice warped into an inhuman shriek as she restrained herself from tearing you apart. She turned and left you. Your hand formed a fist and you aimed it at the wall. Tiny cracks appeared on the surface as you jumped back. Already bruised like your eye, your hand throbbed in pain. You stormed out of the funeral home into the night. And I picked up my pace to join you. Yes Lucas, I have been watching you; perhaps longer than what you would like to believe. Tonight was the perfect opportunity to reveal myself to you. At this gathering no one would give me a second thought: an old woman, clad in black from head to toe, a possible distant relative of the deceased. No one would suspect that I in truth have come for _you._

You are of The Pantheon.

You will not be loved.

You will be hated.

You should be hated.

You are living shit.


End file.
